


Duty

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Gen, Ignis is the best, Inspired by Episode Ignis, Introspection, No Spoilers, mild h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 03:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13045863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Ignis thought he'd always understood the meaning of Noctis' royal duty, but he's starting to realise that whatever the gods want of Noctis, it's far too much.





	Duty

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feels after Episode Ignis... There are no direct spoilers for the DLC in this, but I was definitely inspired by it. This is set between chapters three and four of the main game (because that's where I am in my replay right now ^_^)

The morning dawned bright and beautiful. Only the puddles suggested there had been a terrible thunderstorm the night before. Ignis, ever the earliest riser, slid out of the caravan and took a seat overlooking the rest stop’s forecourt. After battling their way through the Greyshire Glacial Cavern yesterday, the bad weather and Noctis’ aching head led Ignis to part with the necessary Gil to put a roof over their heads. That, and the fact that it had been far too late for them to attempt the drive back to Lestallum. Even Gladio hadn’t complained for once. Perhaps a sign that even he recognised something about this whole journey was far, far harder than any of them had ever anticipated.

Ebony and newspaper in hand, Ignis took a deep breath and sat at the table. Birds sang a dawn chorus overhead, their music filling the air. Ignis tried to read, but when he found himself reading the same sentence for the fourth time, he gave up and put the paper aside.

Concern weighed heavily on Ignis’ heart. Watching Noctis clutch his head in pain worried him greatly. He wanted nothing more than to stop this, stop all of it, allow Noctis time to recover, but he couldn’t. There would be no recovery until they dealt with Titan. More than that, Ignis wanted Noctis to have the time to mourn his father, mourn his city. He didn’t want to see Noctis fighting back tears or crushing his emotions because he thought he had to.

Ignis rubbed his eyes. Nothing about this journey was fair.

Watching Noctis receive another Royal Arm yesterday felt like both an achievement and a strange kind of damnation. It was his birth-right to claim them, and yet with each one he took, Ignis struggled not to flinch as the ghostly weapons stabbed him in the chest.

“Ignis?”

He looked up from his musings to find Prompto staring at him worriedly.

“Are you alright?” Prompto asked. “You looked super serious. Like maybe you were trying to reheat your coffee with the power of your mind.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Ignis said. “Is there something you need?”

“Your breakfast order? Gladio and I are gonna go pick it up from the store.”

“And Noct?”

Prompto laughed. “Yeah, right, like he’s awake!”

Ignis allowed for a small chuckle, more for Prompto’s benefit than any actual mirth. Noctis had never been one to awaken easily, but ever since the headaches began, he’d slept deeper than ever.

“Perhaps a selection of pastries,” Ignis said. “I doubt even I will manage to awaken Noct fast enough for him to eat anything hot.”

Prompto nodded. “And I know what he’s like about hot food that’s gone cold.” He shook his head. “Who knew a guy could be so picky about food.”

Gladio emerged from the caravan, stretching and yawning. “Morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Ignis said.

“Our dear Prince sleeps on,” Gladio said. Ignis could see the fondness in Gladio’s expression. A fondness tinged with frustration, but fondness nonetheless. “I tried getting him up, but – ” He sighed and shook his head. “We’ll be back with breakfast.”

“There’s no rush,” Ignis said. He finished his Ebony and dropped the can in a nearby recycling bin. “Why don’t you two have your breakfast at the store? I saw a small café in the back yesterday. If Noct and I don’t join you by the time you’re finished, you can bring something to us.”

Gladio stared at him. Ignis looked back. It was a brief, silent moment between them, but they’d known each other long enough to know when words were unnecessary.

Gladio was a sharp man after all.

“Alright then,” Gladio said, clapping Prompto’s shoulder. “But don’t blame me if I blow the rest of our money on an all you can eat breakfast special.”

“Something tells me you would enjoy the hunts we would be forced to take on to refill our coffers,” Ignis said.

Gladio laughed. “Nothing like bashing heads together.”

“So violent,” Prompto chided.

Ignis watched them stroll across the road and into the store. Once they were inside, Ignis stood up and stepped into the caravan. He found Noctis where he’d left him, curled up on the lower bunch, arms all but curled around his head. Even in sleep, Ignis could see his friend was in pain.

Heavy-hearted, his stomach churning over the coffee, Ignis sat beside Noctis. He looked at him, remembering the little boy he’d met so many years ago, carefree and full of life. He remembered the child who had been attacked and awoken in agony. He recalled the weary child who had returned from Tenebrae, healing but so quiet. There had been times, before the accident, when Ignis would’ve done anything for Noctis to sit still, be quiet, listen, do as he was told. Afterwards, in a desperate attempt to bring that lively boy back, Ignis had willingly snuck out of the Citadel with him and accepted all the trouble they got into just to see a spark of the joyous child that used to exist. Noctis had changed after that accident. He crushed his emotions and hid them. His silences stretched out, his feelings flickering across his face until they could be buried and never spoken of.

In recent years, Ignis had watched Noctis come to terms with the knowledge that, in some ways, his life would never be his own to live. Ignis remembered the relief he’d felt when he knew Noctis would no longer fight his duty, that he would do what was expected for someone of his station. Finally, Ignis thought, Noctis understood he could never have an ordinary life.

And then Insomnia had fallen.

King Regis died.

The quests for the Royal Arms began.

The headaches attacked.

Suddenly, Ignis’ lifetime of training seemed to be have missed something. He thought he simply had to guide Noctis in all his decisions… Out here, on the road, Ignis found himself lost on more than one occasion.

_What_ exactly did the gods want from Noctis? How far would this journey take him? Take them all? What use was a prophecy if it didn’t offer more guidance? Ignis thought he’d always understood his and Noctis’ roles, and yet recently, for the first time in his life, thought something else.

None of this was fair.

Gods and prophecies and wars, all being placed upon the shoulders of Noctis and Lunafreya. Both had grown up in the shadow of a vague prophecy that left Ignis sick to his stomach.

It wasn’t _fair._

Ignis realised his muscles were suddenly painfully tense. He looked down and saw his hands had curled into fists. He tried to relax, tried to hold onto his peace, but looking at Noctis, he just couldn’t.

And so, without speaking a word, Ignis reached out, placed his hand over Noctis’, and swore again that he would do whatever he could, whatever it _took_ , to protect him.

Noctis’ fingers twitched under Ignis’. Ignis looked and saw Noctis stirring awake.

“Ignis?” Noctis’ voice was thick with sleep and pain.

“Good morning,” Ignis said. He cleared his throat.

Noctis frowned at him. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, thank you. Yourself?”

“Yeah,” Noctis said, pulling his hand free and rubbing his eyes. “Fine.”

“You’ve never been a good liar,” Ignis said.

Noctis squinted at him. “Neither are you.”

Ignis smiled. “Touché, Noct.”

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” Noctis sat up, unable to silence a hiss of pain.

“Headache?” Ignis asked.

“Mmm,” Noctis said, eyes shut. He rubbed his temples. “Talk to me.” He cracked open one eye. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” Ignis said. “I’m alright.”

“Tch, yeah, right.”

“I’m worried about you,” Ignis said. “I don’t like these headaches.”

“Me neither.”

Ignis chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure you don’t.”

Noctis looked at him and smiled tiredly. “I’m gonna be okay. It’s just a headache. You don’t need to worry about me so much.”

Words failed Ignis. His heart quivered in his chest.

“I know, I know,” Noctis said. “It’s your job to worry about me. But you don’t need to so much. All that stress isn’t good for you.”

“Noct –”

Noctis slid his legs over the side, sitting alongside Ignis. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna fix this. We’re gonna stop the Empire.”

But would Noctis be okay? Ignis turned to him, mouth opening to speak.

Noctis clapped him on the shoulder. “Ignis, relax. I’m –”

The floor rumbled beneath them. Ignis leapt up, catching Noctis before he could crumple to his knees. “Noct!”

Noctis cried out, pressing his hands to his skull. Ignis lowered him to the ground. Moments later, the quake ended.

“Noct?”

“I’m alright,” Noctis said. He stood up, teetering drunkenly. Ignis grabbed him. “Thanks.”

“Take it slow,” Ignis said. “There’s no rush this morning.”

“There is,” Noctis said, heading towards the bathroom. “The sooner we get back to Lestallum, the sooner I can stop these headaches.” He looked over his shoulder to Ignis. “I’m gonna take a shower. You should go get some breakfast.”

Ignis opened his mouth to argue.

“Ignis. I can handle this.”

Ignis tapped his glasses back up his nose. “I know you can.”

“Right. So trust me.”

Ignis looked at him. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say _I wish this was easier on you_ , or _I wish you didn’t have to suffer._ He even wanted to say _I would take this pain for you if I could_. He didn’t. “Alright. Meet us in the store when you’re ready. We’ll head back to Lestallum once you’ve eaten.”

“Alright.” Noctis stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Ignis leaned against the counter. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling in a deep breath. He waited for the anguish and anger to subside.

Noctis would be alright.

Ignis would make sure he was alright.

That was his duty after all.

And his honour.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hoping to be back soon with another Brotherhood-era fic.


End file.
